


Aw, _______, no.

by desert_neon (sproutgirl)



Series: Scolding Inanimate Objects [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 01:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1247038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sproutgirl/pseuds/desert_neon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint has a ridiculous verbal habit. Phil tries not to find it endearing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aw, _______, no.

**Author's Note:**

> So I was talking with [Cyanide_Kettle](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyanide_Kettle/pseuds/Cyanide_Kettle) the other day, about Hawkeye’s habit of Aw-ing inanimate objects, and how Phil would be affected when Clint Aw-ed something of Phil’s. I didn’t know what object to use, however, and she suggested his Taser. I loved that idea. So today I sat down to write it . . .
> 
> . . . and managed something completely different. Sorry, darling. But I hope you like this anyway?
> 
>  
> 
> Now with podfic! I can hardly believe it! [61Below](http://archiveofourown.org/users/61Below/pseuds/61Below) has recorded a podfic version, which can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1649630).

Clint had a habit of talking to objects when they failed him in some way. Usually it was a simple, “Aw, (misbehaving item)” and sometimes there would be a “no” tacked on to the end of that sentence. Sometimes he had more to say, usually with some kind of pun worked in, but the shorter statement was most common.

(“Aw, coffee, no.” — When his coffee spilled.

“Aw, gun.” — When his pistol jammed.

“Aw, requisition form, you wound me.” — After sustaining a paper cut.)

Phil understood the impulse. It was a way for him to express his disappointment; some flippant words to hide a whine perhaps, or maybe to mask a deeper sense of betrayal. Clint would be the first one to admit, after all, that things in his life rarely went right, even if he’d hide the statement in a joke. In the bigger moments, he would generally suck it up, put his head down, and fight to make things better again. But in the smaller moments, when coffee spilled and belts broke and pens leaked and there wasn’t much he could do about it, he’d take a moment to chastise the offending item before moving on.

Phil tried very hard not to find it endearing.

(He was mostly unsuccessful.)

So when they were eating lunch in his office (Phil hurrying because he had an incredibly important meeting to attend, one that could shape some vital SHIELD projects and so Phil would have to either glad-hand or intimidate, suck-up or coerce) and Clint said, “Aw, ketchup, no!” he looked up to see what the condiment had done to offend his asset. But Clint was clean, no drips or splotches on his clothes, and he was looking across the desk to Phil. Dreading what he might find, Phil looked down at himself and, sure enough, there was a large stain on his favorite You Will Comply With My Wishes budgetary meeting tie.

Shit.

He started to push away from the desk, but Clint was there suddenly, leaning over the space with a napkin, dabbing at the spot of ketchup, and easily making it worse. And Phil temporarily lost his mind.

Because Clint didn’t talk to other people’s things. Well, he did, if other people’s things disappointed _him_. But he’d never once heard Clint express such disappointment on behalf of someone else. So either he’d made an exception this time, in order to scold Phil’s ketchup, or he was personally let down by its behavior. Which was just—

Yeah. Phil lost his damn mind.

He grabbed Clint by the sleeve of his t-shirt, pulled him forward and up, and kissed him. Over his desk. In his office. At SHIELD. What the hell.

But Clint . . . Clint kissed back. So that was good. That was amazing. He tasted like burger and coffee and promise. He braced his hands on the desk and deepened the kiss for a minute or two, then chuckled into Phil’s mouth. “You mean all I had to do was clean your tie?” he asked after pulling back just slightly.

Phil huffed at him. “No. That would imply that you actually removed the stain. What you really managed to do was spread it out and rub it in.”

Wincing, Clint offered, “Sorry?”

“Don’t be,” Phil told him, amused. “I have extra ties.”

“Of course you do. But they aren’t your Give Me All Your Money, Bitches tie.”

Phil blinked. “You know I have a special tie for budget meetings?”

Clint rolled his eyes. “I don’t miss much. You know. Hawkeye.”

“And yet you’ve somehow missed that I’ve wanted to kiss you for, well. Longer than I’m willing to admit.”

“Nope.” Clint grinned at him. “Was just waiting for you to finally decide to make the move. A turtle could outpace you, boss.”

“Well,” Phil said again, and then he didn’t know what else to say.

Luckily, Clint had a solution for that, leaning in to kiss him again. And when his cell phone trilled at them, telling Phil to get going, Clint murmured, “Aw, timer, no.”

Phil laughed, kissed Clint one more time, and forgot to grab a spare tie on his way out.

(He got the money anyway. He always did.)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Aw, _____, no. [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1649630) by [61Below](https://archiveofourown.org/users/61Below/pseuds/61Below)




End file.
